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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807828">our summer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutalhearts/pseuds/brutalhearts'>brutalhearts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Iwaizumi Hajime - Freeform, Kuroo Tetsurou - Freeform, M/M, commitment issues, inexperienced iwa-chan, iwaoi - Freeform, matsukawa issei - Freeform, neighbors!au, oikawa might not be as annoying, oikawa tooru - Freeform, pining pining pining, platonic MatsuOi?, really cringy pining, self indulgent af, slightly older oikawa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:15:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutalhearts/pseuds/brutalhearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaned against the wall, inhaled deeply, concentrated on the air filling his lungs and then leaving him with a long and slow exhale. It only did a poor job at calming the nervous flutter of his heart. If that moment, there had come someone along and told him he’d just imagined the last half an hour he would’ve believed them. </p><p>But it had really happened, and if the only proof was how the warmth of Oikawa’s breath faintly brushing over his skin lingered even now. How the air around him had filled with the scent of nicotine, the earthy smell of grass soaked with rain, and something much sweeter. He still felt the buzz of receding excitement in his veins, tasted the memory of a stuttering heart leaping up his throat. </p><p>He’d been witness to many storms in his life. Hajime was certain, though, the most captivating so far, had been Oikawa Tooru. — </p><p>Or, Hajime left the safety of his childhoods home and moved to Tokyo, out to finally figure what or who he wants to be beyond the distraction of others expectations bearing down on him. What he finds, though, is different from what he was looking for: which are both more questions and answers in the shape of his new neighbor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't believe I am actually publishing my FIRST fanfiction. UGH ?<br/>After being on this platform for rather long and reading and reading and yenno, reading (and collecting about a hundred drafts of ff's on my laptop) I decided to share a work with yall. So yeah, this is kinda exciting for me and I hope you'll like it??? I love writing, I love haikyuu and most of all iwaOi owns my damn heart so I guess this was honestly inevitable.</p><p>HOWEVER I'm gonna start little. Give this probs about 4 chapters (I'll see how it goes) and will TRY to update once a week on sunday.<br/>As mentioned in the tags this is pretty much self-indulgent and just me wasting too much time thinking about Iwaoi and possible relationship dynamics between them. </p><p>I still hope you will enjoy this. Comments are welcome, be it feedback, questions or just incoherent screaming about how much you love iwaoi (man, i really do). </p><p>Thanks in advance to everyone giving this a read and deciding to wait on my lazy ass for updates.<br/>This work is not beta'd so forgive mistakes, or gladly point them out??? I try my best to proofread it severally before. </p><p>long story short: ENJOY (also gonna add more tags as the story progresses)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Iwaizumi Hajime wasn’t a stalker,</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">or at least he told himself exactly that whenever he sat on the same green, slightly rotten bench opposite to his apartment complex, waiting for <em>him </em>to come home; his neighbor. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That alone could possibly disprove the prior stated, certainly did, that is. Albeit, Hajime could’ve come up with several reasons as to why he would, on some days, spend hours in the adjacent park, reasons that did not circle around the man he lived door to door with.<br/><br/>For one, his apartment was cramped and he had yet failed to get rid of the musty scent he’d noticed first thing when stepping past the threshold a couple months back. Well, freedom did not always smell nice, did it? It was the mantra that had, up until now, kept him from investing too much money into air fresheners. Not that he had the money to begin with.<br/><br/>Another reason was that the young man had always favored the nature, instead of sitting home all day. In his opinion he was spending way too many hours inside, especially after starting work at the convenience store next to his district’s train station, which’s heater was always cranked up to the point where the humid summers of Tokyo appeared to be the lesser evil. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">So Hajime would find his way into that certain park to catch fresh air, and cool his sticky skin, after hours of trying his best not to mold into a puddle, standing behind the register or stocking up the shop’s wares. It also had to be that exact bench because it was closest to his apartment, not because it’d give him the best view. After standing all day, he couldn’t be arsed to walk more steps than necessary to eventually collapse onto his bed. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The third reason was that he had but just too much time on his hand. He didn’t know too many people, only moving to Tokyo recently. Meeting people was as well not his primarily concern, after he had left Sendai, giving his parents the promise to make something of himself. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Initially Hajime had reckoned the distance to them would eventually lift the pressure he did feel to be under, but that turned out to be only partially true. Mostly because his parents would still call him daily, and also because a good part of the pressure put on his shoulders came from no one else but himself. There was this one question constantly buzzing in his head; When will I finally know what or whom I want to be? </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The only time his mind would not circulate about that <em>one </em>thing was when he was watching him. <em>Oikawa Tooru. </em>His neighbor for two months now. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That may sound like he eventually was a stalker, but as prior mentioned Iwaizumi Hajime just had a hard time adjusting to his new life; the odd smell of his new apartment, the new job, and having really no clue how to spend his time when he wasn’t working, or trying to figure out into which direction he wanted his life to go.<br/><br/>He had first noticed Oikawa on his second day in Tokyo, after trying to get familiar with his new surroundings. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime had spent a good couple minutes trying to figure which from the jumble of keys he’d received fit into the lock of his apartment, as the other man had come out of the adjoining door. His copper hair had shone in the light of the afternoon sun, and albeit the distinct bags under his eyes and the fatigue running athwart features, had his breathing never faltered the same way as when their gazes had met. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The humiliation he’d felt that day still left his mind reeling and his stomach flip with nausea. He had wanted to say something, anything, but found himself just staring until Oikawa’s brows quirked and his head titled in what looked to be mild amusement, and after an acknowledging nod he had taken his leave. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The force with which he had eventually opened and slammed the door shut behind him was enough to nearly have it knocked out of its hinges, fearing anyone could see the flustered expression on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime was 23 years old, and it was near the end of his high school time that he had figured to not only feel attraction toward the opposite gender, yet had he never come across a man he felt as drawn to after but a single and brief eye contact. He had never questioned it either from that very moment on. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Iwaizumi Hajime found his neighbor just utterly fascinating. Everything about him. And wasting his thoughts on the man also appeared to be more pleasant than pondering about his future for hours on end. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He would dare say, for that they were practically strangers, he knew quite a lot about him. During a talk with his landlady had he learned that Oikawa was 5 years older than him and lived in the same apartment for three years now. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That time, Hajime had felt the urge to ask more questions, though deemed it quite eerie to shamelessly grill the older woman on information about a tenant, even though she was rather talkative, and didn’t appear to have found it weird that he had asked about his direct neighbor to begin with. Still, he wanted to be on the safe side.<br/><br/>In the first weeks of living next to the fascinating Oikawa, Hajime would notice that the man next door didn’t appear to go grocery shopping himself. Instead, every day around noon there was a bag with food dangling on the man’s door handle. It was always filled with a quite odd amount of instant ramen, and he also noticed that whenever he’d pass his apartment again later that day, the bag was empty, save for some vegetables. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">As it seemed the older male had terrible eating habits, so Hajime thought. He’s never been a great cook himself, but his parents had lectured him about the lacking nutrients of instant food for hours on end and that early on. So, he’d immediately feel guilty just considering to buy instant ramen, and opt for the only thing he thought himself to be quite decent at making; rice omelette. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Yes, four out of seven evenings, Iwaizumi Hajime ate rice omelette. Probably, that was not what his mother had meant when telling him to continue eating healthy after leaving his family’s house in Sendai, but he still kept on procrastinating the resolve to look into the one or other recipe and expand his cooking skills. He was good at procrastinating, that much was certain. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">After their first encounter, he did see Oikawa a couple more times, though, the other male seemed to never even think about sparing him with as much as a second glance. Hajime’s lips had parted severally, in preparedness of a greeting, yet before he could muster up the courage to speak the man had walked past him. It occurred to him though, that Oikawa always looked tired, and yet, never any less beautiful, and Hajime’s breathing faltered every time. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Before Hajime had stumbled across the job ad from the convenience store he’d visit quite frequently, he had also figured that his neighbor left every late afternoon. He didn’t actively pay attention to the sound of the door opening and falling back into its lock. Or maybe he did. However, it was not until Hajime’s routine changed, and he was out mostly during the day, returning around 8 pm, and some time later, that he became aware of another habit of the man living next to him:</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa Tooru did leave in the late afternoon, going wherever, and coming back when the sun had long set behind Tokyo’s impressive skyline. He also was never <em>alone.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He had been sitting on the same bench, after his first night shift, when he saw it the first time. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Initially, the sight of Oikawa with another man left his heart beating ridiculously fast, then the subtlety of jealousy sunk into his conscience. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">For precisely three days, during which he would always see him return home with the same man, had Hajime believed that Oikawa had a boyfriend. Of course he would, right? The first man he’d ever pine for, even if only secretly, could not have possibly been gay <em>and</em> single. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">On a rational note, it wasn’t as though Hajime did ever reckon to have a chance being the man at Oikawa’s side to begin with. Irrationally however, had it always been a damn nice thought, a possibility he’d get lost in nearly every night before slipping into morpheus’ arms.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Eventually Hajime had been more grumpy about the boyfriend-thing than he’d ever admit, to anyone and himself. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His grumpiness did yield confusion quite rapidly though, when soon after that, he saw a different man at Oikawa’s side, and only a couple of days later a new one, yet again. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">So he came to the final conclusion that either way Oikawa did have quite a lot of boyfriends, or none at all, and simply enjoyed the merits that came with being single and as radiant of a person, that Hajime could not imagine anyone in his very proximity not to feel drawn to Oikawa Tooru. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It made sense to him, and honestly, latter was an option more comfortable for the part of himself that was way too invested in the man already, even after such a short amount of time, and without knowing all too much about the human behind all those superficial observations. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">But, <em>god</em>, did Hajime want to know more. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hence, tonight, as it had become a habit over the past months, he’d sit on that old bench and watch the man’s back as he strode from the parking lot toward the apartment complex. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Even his gait had something mesmerizing to it. His movement was languid yet elegant, confidence in every stride of long legs. His copper hair was the typical pretty mess, distinctly curling in his nape and sticking out at one spot or the other, and Hajime had wanted to comb his fingers through them since first seeing their soft gleam in the afternoon sun. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Seriously, his thoughts were so vivid sometimes, that he felt the need to slap himself. Before, he didn’t even know he was capable of such wild ideas, and feelings toward another human. More than often lately, did Hajime indeed fear for his sanity. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Of course Oikawa was not alone this night either, next to him another new face the younger male had not seen around before. The two’s fingers were loosely entangled, walking up to the stairs and as Hajime caught side of Oikawa’s profile, even by a considerable distance, he saw the curve of a smile, and his tired eyes. He’s seen this expression countless of times before, and always thought to spot a hint of falsity edged into the curling of mouth’s corners. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The young adult would often wonder what a genuine smile of him looked like. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He was lingering immobile until the pair had vanished behind the red door, and then air left him in form of a huff, only then noticing he’d apparently held his breath all while his eyes had been fixed on a firm, prideful back, and copper tresses moving softly with the breeze of the approaching summer night. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His heart was pounding unreasonably fast, its drumming noise buzzing in his ears, and it’s never done that before, not before those past eight weeks, not before a certain man, who was beyond oblivious to it, had become a part of Hajime’s life. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t until half an hour had passed, and the sun had long (probably two hours ago) sunken behind heavy, dark clouds- promising the approach of a storm- that he gathered his duffle bag from beside him and leisurely walked home. The lamps on the street illuminated his way up the stairs and along the open hallway, eyes lingering just a second longer on one specific door, as they’d had done so on any other. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He might’ve been curious to a minuscule amount, what exactly was taking place right now in that apartment next to his. Though, no, he did not really want to know. He might’ve developed mild stalker-tendencies, but voyeurism was still on a whole other level. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">In the end, Hajime was grateful that the walls of his apartment were apparently thick enough not to have him overhear any obscene noises by his neighbor and the men he took home. The man doubted his psyche could cope with that much. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Finally locking the door behind him, Hajime was faced with the unwelcoming, darkness of his two-room place, features crinkling at the, by now, familiar smell that momentarily attacked his senses. So he rushed toward the balcony, on which hardly one person had enough space, and ripped the windows open. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That was part of the routine he’d taken to whenever working the store’s evening shift. Airing the room. Getting rid of the day’s sweat during a quick shower. Heating one of the boxed meals his mom would still insist on delivering to him (yeah, it was one of the three evenings where he couldn’t even stand the thought of rice omelette). Turning on the tv and skipping through the channels, only to end up not paying attention to it anyway because he would check messages, emails and sporadically line with friends he’d left behind in Sendai. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Some time around midnight he’d just doze off on the couch, heaving his tired body to bed about an hour later. The thought had occurred to him quite often, that maybe the small obsession he had with his neighbor, was a mere result of his monotonous life. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime did fall asleep in the living room that night, too, after his mind had wandered about any- and nowhere. Though, instead of slowly regaining consciousness as usual he startled awake after a while, at something his weary mind couldn’t immediately grasp. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The tv was still on, some late night news’ a quite background noise to the sound of a heavy downpour that filled his vacant apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Then, the next second, a flash of white light lit up his surroundings, and another second later a loud roar was to be heard, unfiltered through the still open balcony door: Thunder.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">A summer storm had come, after all.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The sky was raging. Leaves rustled and branches cracked with the violence of wind and pelting rain. Water had gathered on his carpet in front of the open window, soaking the beige fabric and making it an even uglier color. Hajime sighed deeply, got up and closed the window, even though the storm did carry incredibly nice, fresh air into his home. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He slowly watched as the heavy drops of water pattered against glass, blurring streetlights and the night’s colors behind its aim for change. It reminded him on his childhood, as Hajime had quickly began to take a liking to the weather’s unpredictability. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Different from other kids, he’d never feared the roaring of the clouds or the veins of electricity decorating the sky. He’d always found comfort in it, thought it fascinating, how it both came and disappeared in a matter of seconds. The different shapes it brought, and colors and sounds. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Even now he remembered countless storms which he’d watched together with his mother from the small window in their kitchen: him sitting on the counter, and warm, steady hands on his hips. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Before he knew it, Hajime had turned the tv off and walked toward his door. Opening it he was yet again greeted by the wild dancing of wind and rain. The hallway’s concrete floor was darkened up to where the storm could reach, water dripped from the rail that separated him from the darkness and the first thing he did was taking a deep inhale of that familiar, sweet, moist scent that came with a summer storm. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">There was something strange mixing into that scent, however. Something acrid, burning, bitter. It caused for his eyes to wander from the captivating scenery in front of him. He almost wished it hadn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Next to him, on the ground, sat Oikawa, long, bare legs stretched out nearly all over the hallway, a thin blanket wrapped around his frame and a lit up cigarette held between middle and index finger. His calves were wet, water running in rivulets down milky skin, and Hajime caught himself staring too long. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Though when his gaze rose again the other did not look into his direction, instead faced onward into the tumultuous night sky. He was quick to do the same, having a feeling that staring at the other man up close would hardly help the lump rapidly forming in his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime had half a mind to turn around and literally flee from this scene, which was meant to end up just as awkward as their first encounter. But leaving now, after he’d just come out would look even weirder, no? Also, he somehow doubted his legs would move to his liking right then. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">So, what he opted for was staring straight ahead, fascination about the weather forgotten, shoulders stiff and just overall unsure what he should do. What the hell was just up with him? He’d surely never been that socially inept before, not that he’d known of anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„I can never decide.“ A gentle voice ripped him out of his thoughts. For a moment the younger man thought to only have imagined it. His head whipped around anyway. Oikawa still wasn’t looking at him. „Do I find it beautiful or terrifying?“ His lips were moving. Hajime had not imagined it.<br/><br/><em>Fuck</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It definitely took him way too long to answer, as he allowed for the others words to repeat in his head, looked away, looked back at Oikawa, and away again because <em>how can one man be so damn magnetic? </em> </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„A storm?“ He sounded confused. <em>Damn, </em>he sounded stupid.<br/><br/>„Destruction.“ Came the reply faster than Hajime would’ve expected, soft features placid and just a little more stricken with fatigue than usual. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He mulled the word over in his head. Overall surprised of the very content of their first conversation, confused, that all it took was <em>this </em>to get to hear the soft, deep timbre of the man’s voice: a sudden change in weather and his decision to watch it from the hallway. <em>How could a voice shake you to your very core so much, anyway? </em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Well…“ Hajime didn’t think about his answer, instead spoke the first that came to his mind. „I’d say its beautiful.“</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Why would you say so?“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The dark haired man leaned back against the wall next to his door, humming in thought, canine momentary catching onto his bottom lip. He shrugged his shoulders, a huff leaving him that sounded close to a laugh. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Destruction precedes rebuilding.“ His voice was only barely to be heard over the rain. He idly wondered whether his words made sense. „It means change.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">And then he let his guard down for just a moment, risking another glance to his left, but he’d not expected for Oikawa to look back at him this time, head slightly tilted upwards. His brows were tugged aloft gently, in what seemed to be wonder, chocolate eyes glued to forest green. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime doubted he’d ever before wasted so much effort on remembering how the thing called ‚breathing‘ worked again. But that moment, he also would have not minded to just forget everything, he ever thought he knew, altogether.<br/><br/>One corner of Oikawa’s lips curled faintly, and okay, <em>wow, </em>was his heart supposed to randomly skip beats? </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He caught a faint glimpse of <em>something </em>coming alive in his brown eyes that second, something he’d never dared to believe to ever see up close, nor directed at him or something he had said. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">If he’d before thought the other to be magnetic, well, Oikawa was a goddamn gravitational field that moment. Hajime wanted to be completely absorbed. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It felt as though their gazes were locked for a tiny eternity, before it was on Oikawa to laugh, and turn away again, all while taking a leisure drag from his cigarette. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Still sounds terrifying to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime could breathe again. He was not quite sure he wanted that. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„You’ve got an interesting view on things, though, Iwa-chan.“ Smoke left his lips as he spoke, and the younger man almost didn’t catch the most <em>important </em>thing about what the other had just said. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Iwa- chan?“ It sounded weird on his tongue, didn’t sound quite as good as rolling off the others. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Iwaizumi is just too long.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„How do you know my name?“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa jerked his chin at something behind Hajime. “It’s right there.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He turned around and was faced with the name that was printed on a small white paper, and shoved into that plastic holder above his doorbell. He didn’t know why realizing that Oikawa had taken a look at it left him feeling near euphoric. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Ah.“ Hajime couldn’t think of anything smart to respond just then. He had a feeling that would become a habit around Oikawa. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The copper-haired man laughed again, raspy and soft, genuine- for what Hajime believed to be able to judge. „Know your neighbors.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Tokyo’s a crazy place. Easy to end up living door to door with a serial killer.“ Oikawa explained, straight-faced and with too much of a nonchalant tone to his voice. The mirth in chocolate eyes betrayed him, nonetheless. „Or, don’t know, a <em>stalker</em>.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The raven-haired man startled at that, briefly wondering whether Oikawa had felt Hajime’s eyes on himself one time or another. But when Hajime chanced a glance to his side, Oikawa still looked calm, eyes fixed on the burning end of his cigarette while lips mindlessly nipped at his thumb. It looked quite adorable. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„At least I’d have a name, then, to match the face of the composite sketch in the news.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa continued unperturbed and Hajime allowed himself a deep inhale, that didn’t quite calm his strung nerves.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„I mean, to each their own.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually. „Wouldn’t tell on you, don’t worry.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">There was a heartbeat of silence following, until Hajime’s chest vibrated with laughter at the bizarre rambling of the male to his side. It was deep, quiet and unbridled. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Looking back down at Oikawa he’d tilted his chin up lightly, gaze shifted heavenward to meet Hajime’s. The skin around eyes had crinkled faintly with the widening of his grin. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„I can assure you,“ Hajime rose a hand to his lips, clearing his throat and once again avoiding a gaze that just appeared to <em>burn </em>right through him. „Im not indulging in any acts of homicide. Don’t plan to either.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa’s eyes were big and bright and full of mischief. „You’re not a murderer.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Absolutely not.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„What are you then?“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The man’s question took Hajime by surprise, and he was falling quiet once more. This time, Oikawa held his stare and Hajime could not find it in himself to look away again, either. Regardless of the weight those words put on his chest, so heavy, that its beat picked up, as if in an attempt to throw off that very burden with its powerful pounding.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He licked his lips, parted them to reply, and closed them again when that reply got lost somewhere on its way up his throat. Eventually, he shrugged, scratched the back of his neck and said, simply: </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„I don’t know.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">At that Oikawa regarded him with something Hajime would have only known to describe as interest, curiosity. Or maybe that was just his own mind making things up. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Warm, chocolate-colored eyes lingered on his own for another second before scanning the rest of his features, then descending to his frame, all the way down to his feet, before traveling back up. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime didn’t think he’d ever felt more exposed. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The rain had let up a little, but the sky was still roaring in the distance, and in the span of minutes the one or other lightning, flickered over the male’s pale face. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He was left motionless, just breathing, and trying not to let himself indulge in that pull he sensed twitching in his limbs. He hadn’t even noticed before, that the storm had moved on. Since stepping out of his four walls and finding the other man, it had felt like there was hardly anything else that existed, but the two of them. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Very interesting, Iwa-chan.“<br/><br/><em>Iwa-chan.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It was an annoying pet name, and Hajime was sure, if someone else had come up with it, he’d have given them an earful. But there was just something else, to how Oikawa said it, something intimate, even though it made him feel like a damn kid. He didn’t know why, but it drove a shiver down his spine, and goosebumps across his flesh. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Lost in the mental analysis of his physical reactions to that man, Hajime hadn’t noticed that Oikawa rose from his spot, and now leaned but a foot away from him, shoulder resting against the wall. One of his hands was clutching on the thin sheet he’d apparently thrown over before stepping outside, holding it together in front of his chest, cigarette now discarded.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The movement had caused the soft linen to slip out of place, and the barely noticeable expanse of now exposed, alabaster skin attracted Hajime’s attention momentarily. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Just what the fuck was wrong with him? He really wanted to slap himself. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Iwa-chan.“ His head snapped up. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa had leaned closer. Only by a millimeter or two, but Hajime didn’t fail to notice. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Lips were still curled softly, and he could also still see the mirth subtly dancing behind dark pupils alongside with something looking close to fascination. He started to feel hot and knew, much to his embarrassment, that it was probably spreading on his neck and the tips of his ears. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">When Oikawa exhaled slowly, he faintly felt the warmth touch his cheek, smelled the slight scent of nicotine and something sweet. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He thought he <em>really </em>should slap himself right then because, this could not possibly be happening right now. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">About an hour ago, Oikawa had just been someone he’d watched from afar. Now, they were talking, standing so close that all Hajime would’ve needed to do was reach out and- </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The next moment Oikawa’s door was opened, light filtering through the crack, and as it fell upon them, so did reality. Something that had felt so far gone just one second ago, as it was only the night and the two men, and the soft pattering of raindrops on surfaces. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Now there was another man, big and handsome, with curly, dark hair, poking his head out from Oikawa’s apartment. Hajime immediately brought distance between himself and Oikawa. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He looked good, almost as good as Oikawa. They looked good together. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Hey, what’s up, you comin’ back, or—?“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Deep vocals were slurred with what Hajime believed to be the remnants of a peaceful sleep. He didn’t allow his eyes to linger very long on the other male, and still he’d immediately noticed that much like Oikawa, the stranger, too, had discarded his shirt in the confines of the man’s apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime shifted from one foot to another as silence spread between the three of them. The still drowsy man was looking back and forth between Oikawa and Hajime, while former appeared to be absolutely unbothered by the interruption. He still considered Hajime, and under a new set of curious eyes, the attention was no longer making him feel excited and warm. It was uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Oi,” The stranger got a hold of Oikawa’s arm and pulled slightly. It was met with a heavy eye roll. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Geez, Mattsun, back up, would ya?” He pointedly shoved a hand flat into the face of the man- who apparently went by the name ‘Mattsun’. “Go back to sleep. I’m good.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll get a cold.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s the middle of summer, what are you talking about?” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You getting sick is way too troublesome to take any risks.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa huffed, “Asshat.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Hajime watched their brief exchange, feeling terribly out of place. He couldn’t help but wonder what their relationship was. It wasn’t the same man who he had seen with Oikawa prior that night. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, I think I- “ Hajime interjected then, carding fingers through his hair, which he only now figured were probably a little messy from his short nap, and jerked his chin toward his own door. “I should head inside, too.“ </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Great, you scared him off.” Oikawa grumbled then, accusing glare directed at Mattsun and lips tugged into a pout. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The other man looked quiet unfazed by the accusation, gaze half-lidded and just displaying an general utter lack of care toward the scene he’d busted into. He shrugged his shoulders, mumbled something about Oikawa drying himself properly before he got back into bed, and then went back inside. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They were alone again. It did not feel quite as intimate though, as it had before. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it’s late, and it has in fact cooled down a little.” Hajime tried to reason, suddenly feeling the need to be alone and process the night’s turn of events. “Should probably go inside and not make him worry.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not worried.” Oikawa huffed a laugh. “He’s just a nuisance.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Still he turned then, long fingers wrapping around the door handle and Hajime still stood unmoving in the same spot he’d taken after first catching sight of Oikawa that night. But before the latter went inside he turned on him again, contemplation distinct in dark irises, and Hajime felt his breath hitch. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks for the late night talk, Iwa-chan.” There was a hesitant curve to his lips, voice low and silkier than Hajime knew how to cope with. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You should come over some time.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">That left him dumbfounded. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth parted in what he imagined must look utterly stupid. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>"Why?"</em> Oikawa just laughed at him, before he hummed and tapped a delicate finger to his lips. “Well,” Mirth sparked in his eyes as he said, “You’ve yet to find out if I’m a murderer.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He said that so naturally, that Hajime could not help his lips from spreading into another smile.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">„Sure, yeah.“ Hajime nodded and agreed easily, carding fingers through spiky, black hair just because he was clueless what else to do with his hands. „You’re right, I should. “ After all, it meant that this night, was maybe not going to be a one-time thing.</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s1">„Okay then,“ Oikawa tapped two fingers to his forehead in mock salute. „Good night, Iwa-chan.“</span><br/><br/>„Good night, Oikawa.“ Hajime was turning toward his door, when a hum interrupted his movements. „Mhm. So, you do already know my name, too.“</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">In a spur of rising panic he whipped around, though was only witness to a ghost of a grin before </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa was gone, vanished inside his four walls and leaving Hajime to stand alone outside in the hallway. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He leaned against the wall, inhaled deeply, concentrated on the air filling his lungs and then leaving him with a long and slow exhale. It only did a poor job at calming the nervous flutter of his heart. If that moment, there had come someone along and told him he’d just imagined the last half an hour he would’ve believed them. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">But it had really happened, and if the only proof was how he the warmth of Oikawa’s breath faintly brushing over his skin lingered even now. How the air around him had filled with the scent of nicotine, the earthy smell of grass soaked with rain, and something much sweeter. He still felt the buzz of receding excitement in his veins, tasted the memory of a stuttering heart leaping up his throat. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He’d been witness to many storms in his life. Hajime was certain, though, the most captivating so far, had been Oikawa Tooru. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>turns out i need a minimum of two weeks to finish a chapter with work and everything else going on (unlike one as I'd originally planned) but HERE IT IS.<br/>think i've mentioned in the tags that this is gonna be one pretty self indulgent mess. by the length of the first two chapters i also doubt ill be done with the fourth one lol but yeh we'll see.<br/>hope you enjoy this &lt;3 </p><p>ALSO i kinda rushed the end so i could finally post it. still unbeta'd so ..i take full responsibility for typos but pls be gentle and maybe just read over them??? :)))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Fuck</em>.”</p><p>Hajime cursed under his breath for the umpteenth time that night. He repeatedly felt the need to slam his head down onto the counter, and if it hadn’t been for the other set of eyes, watching him with increasing worry since stepping into the convenience store earlier, he was certain there’d be a bruise on his forehead already.</p><p>„You sure you’re okay?“ Kuroo called over from the cooling counters, where he restocked the shop’s ridiculously versatile supply of bento lunches. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the question from his coworker that day. He still wasn’t sure how to really answer it.</p><p>Its been a week since his nightly clash with Oikawa. They hadn’t talked again, nor had Hajime seen the other man as frequently because for the last 6 days, it had been on him to cover the night shift.</p><p>When Hajime took his usual place on the bench opposite his apartment building, it was already past dawn and Oikawa was long home, or so he assumed, sleeping soundly. Some time after the sun had already settled high above him, he’d drag himself up the stairs and hovered in front of the man’s door, Oikawa’s words still echoing in his restless mind.</p><p>You should come over some time.</p><p>This week’s shitty working hours aside, just how would he ever casually knock on that door? What would they even do? Would Hajime be able to go into the other’s apartment without suffering at least a minor heart attack? Did Oikawa even mean it when he had said it, or was it just out of courtesy?</p><p>That were roughly twenty percent of the questions he drove himself insane with for the past week. He also had no idea what to really do about it, about being too fidgety, thoughtless, way moodier than usual and constantly tired because his mind didn’t even slow down at night, or rather during the day, when he actually should’ve caught up on sleep. Hajime could’ve blamed it on the work currently messing with his biological rhythm. He knew that was only partly the problem.</p><p>He wanted to <em>see</em> Oikawa again.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>„Ey,“ A large box was dumped on the counter in front of him, snapping him out of his brooding state. He rose his head and met the contemplative, cat-like eyes of his coworker staring down at him. „This,“ Kuroo pointed at the two of them „Is good because we <em>talk</em>. You still know what that is? If I’d enjoy one-sided conversations I had kept my shifts with Kageyama. The dude at least grunts at my bullshit sometimes.”</p><p>Hajime huffed a breath, “Don’t be dramatic. M’just tired.” He said, heaved the box off the counter, and started toward the storage room in the back of the store. Kuroo followed him.</p><p>„Yeah, same here.“ Hajime overheard Kuroo grumble behind him as he tried to juggle the large box on one hand, all while pulling on the heavy door of the cool store. „But you’re not your usual, tired, asshole-self. You space out, man. A lot.“ He almost dropped the box just then and directed a pointed glare at Kuroo, who seemed to understand the problem and hurried over to yank the door open.</p><p>„You don’t know me as long as to judge that, do you?“ Hajime countered while putting the box down and walking around the other raven-haired man, back to the shop’s front. It was probably half past 4 in the morning, the shop was still empty, which meant he would not be given the chance to avoid the other’s inquiry.</p><p>„I’m an expert in human nature. Don’t need really long to have someone figured out.” Kuroo drawled and propped his elbows atop the cash desk, mindless to the magazine that crumpled under his weight. Hajime smacked his arm, and yanked it away with an annoyed <em>tch</em>, before sagging into the chair that stood behind the counter.</p><p>“You’re a nosey idiot, is what you are.” Though, Kuroo was sorta having a point. Their bickering, and- more than often- borderline ridiculous conversations was what made his shifts bearable. And he’d been the one not particularly contributing to that lately. He wasn’t quite certain letting Kuroo in on the why would help, however, or just provide the other with more material for stupid jokes on his expense.</p><p>Then again, Hajime didn’t really have someone else to confide in with his problems, and he thought the percentage wasn’t too small that Kuroo could have actual, useful advice.<br/>It wasn’t necessarily high either, but for the mere lack of other options, he could not really be picky, could he?</p><p>He knew he’d spaced out again when a heavy sigh cut his thoughts short and he was met with his friend’s impatience in the form of a frustrated glare, the nearly golden color of his eyes darkening as he narrowed them up at Hajime, utterly deflated over the cash desk. Hajime felt guilty.</p><p>„Fuck, <em>okay</em>.“ He slapped the magazine back onto the counter and nearly hit Kuroo in the process, all while hissing defeat to the taller male. „If you make fun of me,“ He aggressively pointed a finger toward Kuroo, who had straightened at the sharp slap of paper right in front of his face. „I’ll leave your goddamn ass to Kageyama’s grunting and never work another shift with you.“</p><p>Kuroo appeared to be completely unbothered by that threat. The smile on his lips was smug and his eyes sharp as he dismissively flicked his wrist.</p><p>Hajime knew Kuroo was a gossip, given by how freely he shared all of the drama taking place at his college. Who slept with who, and which prof secretly smoked weed behind the gym, and plenty of other things Hajime had forgotten right after hearing them. His guts started to churn with blooming regret.</p><p>He looked at Hajime full of expectancy, as the other took a deep breath and wondered how to go about this best.</p><p>„So, I have this <em>friend</em>.“</p><p>„Okay, okay, okay.“ Kuroo interrupted immediately, one palm held up between them. He laughed and Hajime wanted to strangle him already.</p><p>„You cannot seriously give me this ‚<em>it’s a friend’s problem</em>‘ -crap. That’s insulting my intelligence.“</p><p>Hajime grunted, „First of all, you do that well enough on your own whenever you open that mouth of yours.“</p><p>„Ouch, but fair enough, okay.“ „Second, either you shut up, or I will tell you shit.“</p><p>Kuroo then lifted both hands in a placating gesture. He pinched his thumb and index together in front of his mouth, metaphorically zipped his lips shut and threw the ‚key‘ over his shoulder. Hajime doubted the gesture’s reliability. Still he started once again,</p><p>„As I said, my friend,“ There was a pause and a pointed glare thrown Kuroo’s way, and even though the latter’s brow twitched he kept his mouth shut. Hajime heaved a sigh, „He has this … situation. With a new neighbor of his.“ His hand waved about in the air between them, as though Hajime could pick his words from it. Or maybe it was just an effective method to stall this conversation.</p><p>„That neighbor,“ Hajime continued, wetted his lips and suddenly felt the need to elude Kuroo’s intent gaze, instead allowing for his own to fall through the shop’s large window to his right. The fast approaching summer day had just begun to dip everything in soft shades of blue, mixed with the sporadic, orange blotches of streetlights, that’d turn out in less than half an hour. Hajime liked this time.</p><p>„They are really attractive, you know.“</p><p>Kuroo huffed a laugh, and Hajime’s head turned toward him, a frown immediately in place.</p><p>„So what, you’re telling me your <em>friend</em>,“ The taller male drew quotation marks in the air. „Is all flustered and acting fucking weird, because they have a pretty neighbor?“ The amusement in Kuroo’s voice was heavy. Hajime wanted to reach out and smack him. Instead he just fisted his palms on the counter.</p><p>„Why am I talking to you again?“</p><p>„I’m just trying to really understand the situation.“ Kuroo countered, still with the remnants of a chuckle to his words. He grabbed a bag of chips from one of the standees to his side and ripped it open.</p><p>„Well it’s not just that, okay? I mean, I- <em>they</em>,“ He corrected himself quickly, in spite of knowing his friend had never been deterred from the very beginning, who he was actually talking about. „My friend thinks they are pretty, but, I don’t know, there’s more to that.“ Hajime was frustrated. He grew even more frustrated as he tried to sort his thoughts, all while Kuroo grinned at him, cheeks puffed out with crumbled slices of fried potato.</p><p>Hajime’s arms wound tightly across his chest, a light flush high on his cheeks and that seemed enough to wipe the amusement off of Kuroo’s face. His head tilted back and he stared at the white ceiling, the broken fan right above him. Each bit of energy left him that moment, to keep up any kind of ridiculous pretense.</p><p>„He just draws me in.“ It was only a murmur, and the way he shrugged his shoulders then, bore something helpless. Maybe because that was how Hajime felt. He didn’t know how to talk about feelings he couldn’t fully grasp himself. Probably he would laugh, too, at his own expense, just like Kuroo had done.</p><p>A groan filled the air between them, seconds in which it had suddenly become silent and Hajime wiped a palm sweaty palm down his face. „I don’t fucking know okay? I’ve never felt anything close to that before.“ He barked.</p><p>When he looked back at Kuroo, any ounce of amusement had drained from his features. He just considered Hajime with what looked like serious contemplation. More seconds passed like that, before the man cleared his throat, putting the bag of chips aside.</p><p>„It’s a man?“ Kuroo asked, then, patting greasy hands on his colorful work shirt. Hajime just nodded. He wasn’t scared by the idea of possible judgment, mostly because Kuroo was way too open himself about his own sexuality. It still was something else entirely, however, to vocally acknowledge it in front of someone else for the very first time. Not even his friends back in Sendai, nor Hajime’s parents, knew that there existed the chance of him coming home introducing a <em>boy</em>friend.</p><p>The other whistled, his gaze taking in Hajime’s appearance from head to toe, and latter was prepared with a frown at what kinda bullshit Kuroo was about to spat.</p><p>„If I’d known from the beginning you swing that way I might’ve made a move on ya.“</p><p>„I can swing at you with my fist.“ „I could be into that.“ The raven’s grin was back in place with its signature conceited spread, and still Hajime couldn’t really find it in himself that moment to be pissed. This familiarity, their conversation went back to, so easily, was comforting.</p><p>To make a point he still swatted at Kuroo’s arm and gave him a half-hearted tsk, accompanied by a mumbled: „Idiot.“</p><p>“So, to sum it up, you’re freaking out because of a simple crush?” He didn’t like the tone to the other’s voice just then. He liked even less that it was partly true. Sure, Hajime had dated before, but any relationship of his had always been born out of mere convenience. He had liked each of them, and at some point, and under the influence of pubertal hormones, there had just grown a need inside of him to make certain experiences. It had never gone past liking someone, though.</p><p>He could not recall only one of the three girls he’d been together with sparking anything but lukewarm, friendly affection. There’d never been a fire, slowly blazing in his guts, until it spread to flames lapping at his skin, gradually swallowing him. Hajime has never considered that to be something he wanted. Not back then. Feeling like he wanted it so badly now was terrifying.</p><p>“Or, you freaking out because you don’t know whether he’s into guys, too?”</p><p>“No, I know, or I <em>think</em> I know he is.”</p><p>“Then you’re wondering how to approach him.” Kuroo concluded.</p><p>“Yes, <em>no</em>, I mean.” He scratched the back of his neck. “We talked, last week, it was sorta odd.” Hajime explained, breathing a half-hearted laugh at the memory- still so vibrant in his very head, because he’d spent a great amount of time mentally reliving it. “But at the end he said to come over <em>some time</em> and, just what do i fucking make of that?”</p><p>Kuroo’s eyes widened slightly. “I cannot just knock at his door, right? I could bother him, or maybe he even just said it to be nice? Without really meaning it. I’d just hate it to impose on him and-“</p><p>“Holy shit, Iwaiuzmi.” A Hand clamped down over his mouth then. It was too hot, sweaty just like his own skin, because of the scorching temperatures in the store, and Hajime flinched away, features pinched with disgust.</p><p>“Are you a virgin?” Kuroo gazed at him in earnest, and Hajime thought that was the moment the vein throbbing on his forehead finally popped.</p><p>“You fucking-“ he lunged over the counter, but Kuroo was prepared and evaded the hand that reached for the collar of his shirt, bumping into a shelf in the process. He laughed though, as amused as Hajime was pissed, rubbing at his shoulder, where it had collided with the furniture’s edge.</p><p>The other man opened his mouth just then, probably ready to increase the angry heat on Hajime’s face, but they were interrupted by the <em>ping</em> announcing the entrance of a customer. Both their heads whipped around.</p><p>“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto, a broad shouldered man, with a terribly dye job, and too much enthusiasm in his voice approached the pair. He was a friend of Kuroo’s from College. Both of them in one room could easily be the cause for a brain aneurysm. Hajime had still grown to like him over the past months.</p><p>“What were you two doing just now?” Bokuto asked, eyes wide as they regarded them- maybe specifically the frown-lines on Hajime’s forehead- with distinct curiosity.</p><p>“Discussing Iwaizumi’s love life.” Kuroo sneered at Hajime and latter already imagined different ways on how to throttle him. His hands would probably be the most satisfying method.</p><p>“Ohoho?” Bokuto piped up immeriately, stepping next to Kuroo with a matching grin, equally wide and equally obnoxious. Hajime just sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“I can’t be bothered with the combination of you two right now.” Even less than on any other day, for the lack of sleep and the fact that trusting Kuroo with his problem had turned out to be as horrible as he’d expected.</p><p>“Kuroo?” Bokuto tapped the other’s arm to get his attention. “Did you break him?”</p><p>A snort rose out of the tall raven’s throat, but when he looked over at his friend, something else appeared to come to his mind right then. “What are you doing here anyway, Bo? It’s 5 in the morning.”</p><p>“Oh! I was out drinking with some guys from class. One of them overdid it pretty much, though, so I just dropped him off at home. It was on the way so I thought I’d pick ya up.”</p><p>After that Bokuto easily fell into animated retelling of his night. About how one of the guys he went drinking with, had hurried into one of the bar’s toilet stallls without checking if it was occupied, and puked on a man’s back who had kneeled in front of the toilet, equally miserable. How they saw the man again sometime later, oblivious to the back of his shirt covered in vomit. Hajime pitied then man, but he could not contain the minuscule twitch of lips as he listened.</p><p>“I know the guy, though, think I’m gonna buy him a new shirt.”</p><p>Albeit Hajime thought it way too early to be dealing with someone that had twice the energy like him- on one of his good days, even- it did help pass the last half an hour of their night shift.<br/>He squinted against the morning sun, hanging lowly on the sky and now invading through the shop’s front windows, announcing just another scorching hot summer day. Meanwhile Bokuto and Kuroo had shifted to a less enthusiastic conversation about the upcoming exams.</p><p>It was one of the things that always caused a weird pull within his ribcage. He blamed it on feeling left out.</p><p>„Don’t know how you do it.“ Bokuto groaned, draping an arm around Kuroo and leaning heavily against him. „Juggling both work and studies. Let me in on your secret, man.“</p><p>„Maybe you’d figure it out yourself,“ The taller man shoved him off, scoffing. „If there’d be more in your head than volleyball.“</p><p>Bokito pursed his lips in contemplation that looked way too serious, before shrugging his shoulders. „Guess I don’t really wanna know, then.“</p><p>They laughed in unison while Hajime cleared the cash desk- collecting the couple empty water bottles that had gathered underneath, and tossing away the two plastic boxes of the bentos he’d had earlier that night. The clock chimed 5 am sharp, and he couldn’t wait to finally get out of there and hopefully catch some sleep that wasn’t restless due to the intolerable temperatures and his reeling thoughts.</p><p>His eyes fell onto the magazine he’d mindlessly skipped through that night to kill time, but before he could take it, a palm fell flat on its cover. Kuroo’s eyes were back on him when he shifted his gaze upwards.</p><p>„What’s with you, Iwaizumi? Gonna study for entrance exams?“ He tapped his index on the magazine, and the large camera printed on it. „You know, our college is offering a photography-something major, too. Dunno what its called exactly.“</p><p>Bokuto peered over Kuroo’s shoulders, eyes large with a sudden surge of excitement. „Then we can study together! Wouldn’t that be one hell of a study group?? Could grab some beer and snacks and-„ A large hand to his face silenced Bokuto eventually, except for the remnants of a distraught <em>mmpf</em>.<br/>„This aint about another chance for you to get shitfaced.“ Kuroo scolded amused, but his attentive eyes were still set on Hajime, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.</p><p>„I don’t know.“ Once again that night he ripped the magazine out from under Kuroo’s weight. This time he stuffed it into his backpack, that he usually stored under the counter. „We’ll see.“ Kuroo just shrugged his shoulders in immediate defeat to Hajime’s vagueness. He seemed to know better by then, as to press the matter like he’d done on some other occasions. „Okay well, I tried.“</p><p>„Whatever.“ Hajime sighed, looking both at Kuroo and Bokuto. „You can head out, I’ll wait for Kindaiichi. Guy’s probably just missed a train.“ He noted, after a quick glance over to the clock showed him it was 5 minutes past his actual end of work.</p><p>Kuroo smiled, his eyes saying <em>I know you wanna get rid of me</em>, but again he chose not to turn this into another argument. Maybe, and just <em>maybe</em>, Hajime thought, Kuroo was being considerate because he’d had tormented Hajime enough during their shift that night. That was a big maybe, though.</p><p>„Fine.” He stretched, stifled a yawn and circled the counter to grab his own bag, before walking back to Bokuto’s side and pushing him toward the shop’s doors. “I’ll treat you to dinner next week, though, and you can’t complain about it.”</p><p>Hajime rolled his eyes and dismissed Kuroo with a wave of his palm. “Aye, just fuck off now.” It earned him a laugh, the taller raven tilting his head back faintly as he followed his friend out the shop. The electronic doors opened with another ping, though Kuroo stopped before he could pass the threshold and turned back around. „Oh, right,“ Hajime’s brow curled in expectancy.</p><p>„About what he discussed before. You know,“ He scratched at his chin, looking oddly serious for a change as he seemed to ponder his words. „Don’t overthink it, and <em>you’ll only ever regret the chances you didn’t take</em>- or something like that.“</p><p>„Did you find that quote on the interenet?“ Hajime snorted, regardless of the small smile tugging on his lips.</p><p>„Maybe.“ Kuroo shrugged again. „Oh and I forgot that, too.“ He flipped Hajime the bird, a large grin now on his face, and then walked backwards out of the convenience store. The doors closed after another second and Hajime was left laughing and shaking his head, eyes following the pair as they walked past the window- Kuroo just grinning and Bokuto frantically waving goodbye.</p><p>They would head home to the apartment they shared. Hajime thought it must be nice, must be a little less lonely, all while scolding himself because just what did he expect to begin with, moving on his own into a city where he barely knew anyone. He already felt less alone than during the first month, mostly due to the people he’d met at work, but it was still like he’d not entirely arrived just yet.</p><p>Checking the clock again it was nearly ten minutes past five. Kindaichi rushed into the store at five-fifteen, all flushed and heavy breathing and immediate apology on his lips. He was such a nice kid that Hajime doubted he could ever be seriously mad at him. He had freshly turned 21, was still living at home and had somehow treated Hajime like some sort of mentor ever since finding out he’d left his home recently and moved into another city (not to mention it was just a couple hours by train). What Hajime reckoned to be a hasty decision made with the reason to escape responsibility, Kindaichi found brave and exciting. It was a matter of perception, Hajime concluded.</p><p>After exchanging a couple words Hajime left and went on his fifteen minute walk home. It was a short enough distance to his apartment to compensate for all the things that were less appealing- like the numerous involvement with rude customers, the night shift (and early shift, because Hajime had never been a morning person) and mostly the broken heater or lack of a functioning air conditioner. But he kept telling himself it was just a temporary stop on whatever path he currently found himself, a means to get somewhere else, a place making him less restless and just overall less uncertain about <em>things</em>.</p><p>Hajime walked through the park that lied between the store and his apartment complex. That early if was still relatively empty, save from the one or other person on their morning jog or way to the train station. It’d be more crowded in a couple hours with kids and families gathering around and on the wide meadows, looking for shelter from the sun under the large trees, or dipping their toes into the water of the small pond that marked the middle.</p><p>The raven himself preferred this place as silent as it was in the early morning or late evening hours. Where it was only him and the soft noises of nature around him. It was nearly peaceful, reminding him on his hometown and making him forget about the giant buildings always lingering over the treetops.</p><p>It was less than five minutes from his home, on his usual resting spot with the apartment already in sight, that Hajime patted down his pants and figured, immensely distressed, that his keys were missing. “Fuck. No, no, <em>no</em>.” He ripped his backpack from his shoulders and dug through its contents. There was the magizine, a fresh shirt, his wallet, a half empty water bottle, but no keys.</p><p>Rushing over to the by now familiar, green bench he plopped down on it, shaking his bag for good measure, but there was no clinking to be heard in the depths of the slightly worn-out fabric. He tossed it aside with a heavy sigh, wondering just what he’d done to deserve this. It might’ve been only a short distance to the store, but Hajime just wanted to collapse on his bed, or couch, whatever, instead of walking another thirty minutes back and forth. He was hot, his limbs felt stiff and his temples and eyes ached with the lack of proper sleep he’d gotten the past week.</p><p>His phone vibrated in the back pocket of his pants then and he pulled it out to find a message from Kindaichi. A photo was attached- it were his keys, lying on the counter right next to the coffee brewer. And then he remembered why he’d put them there. He was busy digging for his wallet in his unnecessarily big backpack, to buy the photography magazine, as a customer had come in, prompting Hajime to totally forget about bagging up his keys again.</p><p>&gt;&gt; Kindaichi Yutaro<br/><em>These are yours, right? :(</em></p><p>&gt;&gt; yeah.. just noticed I forgot them.</p><p>&gt;&gt; Kindaichi Yutaro<br/><em>Gonna come get them?</em></p><p>Hajime groaned, fell forward and let his face drop into his palm for a second, mentally preparing himself that he’d actually have to walk back. His phone vibrated again before he could reply.</p><p>&gt;&gt; Kindaichi Yutaro<br/><em>I mean I could drop them off on my break? Or maybe sooner. Depends how busy it gets.</em></p><p>Was he actually gonna let Kindaichi, that good kid, sacrifice his break only to come and bring him his keys? It did sound way more comfortable, though, his shift had only begun and it’d be long before he could go on break. What was Hajime supposed to do anyway? Sleep on this bench? In the end, there didn’t seem to be much of a difference between waiting or going and grabbing the keys himself.</p><p>His gaze wandered off, over to the apartment building, his door and then <em>that</em> door again. Though, it was right next to his so noticing it was inevitable, right? Yeah, right.</p><p>Hajime wondered what he’d be doing right now. Sleeping probably, or not, because you can not look perpetually tired when you were resting peacefully. Maybe he could see him again the coming weekend, or next week when he had the afternoon shift. Maybe Oikawa and him would talk again.</p><p>A contemplative hum escaped him- had he always been this fucking desperate? That very moment he actually did consider sleeping on the bench, because there was the small possibility that when his brain was not functioning right as of late, that letting it grill in the summer sun would fix it. Or make it worse.</p><p>„What are we looking at?“</p><p>Hajime nearly toppled over and threw his phone straight through the park, at the sudden breath of words against his skin. He whipped around at last to find Oikawa leaning over the bench, arms casually folded across the backrest and sly smile curving rosy lips, as though he found amusement in Hajime’s reaction.</p><p>“Fuck, you scared me.” Hajime breathed, a little flustered still, heart only slowly calming down.</p><p>“Not gonna lie, that was sort of my intention.” Oikawa’s smile only widened and the raven couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the subtle playfulness that blazed in chocolate eyes. He probably would’ve snapped at anyone else.</p><p>“So..” Oikawa circled the bench and took the spot next to Hajime, crossing one leg fluently over the other. He didn’t wear anything special- tight, light-blue jeans that were rolled up to reveal milk-colored, bony ankles, and a black v-neck shirt. Hajime felt like a beggar next to him. “What were you doing?” He followed Hajime’s line of sight, before his gaze flitted toward him again. “Don’t tell me I guessed right and you actually are a stalker.”</p><p>The younger man felt the faintest of color rise to the cheeks, not only because he had thought about Oikawa just a minute before, but also since they sat on the very bench where Hajime had indeed watched him from quite often.</p><p>“N-no, I..” Why did he had to stutter now of all times? Hajime wanted to dig himself a damn hole. „I mean,“ He opted for a slow inhale instead, regardless that the hole appealed more to him that moment. „I just got back from work.“</p><p>Oikawa hummed, „Looks like it.“ His head slanted subtly, eyes traveling over Hajime’s appearance and- he really, <em>really wanted to crawl into that hole.</em> Still, he could not detect anything condescending in the warmth of his gaze. “But most people would drop dead on their bed, coming home from work at 5 in the morning.” The brunette continued. “Yet, you sit here.”</p><p>“Ah.” Hajime scratched behind his ear, „Well, I forgot my keys at the store.“ Though, it already appeared to be less of a hassle, now that it had led to this chance encounter. „It’s not far, as you probably know, but I still kinda try to will myself to move and go back getting them.“</p><p>There was a pitiful twist of features from Oikawa’s side. „How’s that going for you?“</p><p>„Now, I still sit here, so..“</p><p>Oikawa chuckled, quiet and low, and Hajime cursed his heart for skipping a beat at that sound. „Sorry.“ The brunette covered his smile behind slender fingers as his laughter was slowly carried away by the breeze. „Sure sucks.“ He nodded. „Sucks even more that you have to keep running around wearing that.“ He granted the raven’s shirt- which was a blaring green and red- a pointed, amused look. Hajime just gaped.</p><p>„Are you making fun of me?“ A disbelieving frown had settled on his face, yet without real heat in its depths, and Oikawa seemed to catch up on that as he shrugged and sighed in too much of a dramatic fashion.</p><p>„Hate to break it to you, Iwa-chan, but I just don’t really think these are your colors.“ His mouth twisted ruefully. „Can’t believe I’m the first to tell you, though.“</p><p>„Great.“ Hajime deadpanned, his eyes now set ablaze by the same mischief which had invaded Oikawa’s. „What d’you suggest I do now? Start a petition for different colored work attire? Or maybe sparing me that trouble and just quitting right away would be better.“</p><p>There were soft lines at his eyes’s corners as Oikawa’s smile grew, before trying to reign in his obvious mirth and nodding an ounce more serious. „Well I think it goes against human rights to make anyone, for that matter, wear something as ugly. I’d not even want to die in that shirt.“</p><p>„You’re so dramatic.“ Hajime huffed and shook his head lightly while fingers flew up to rub along the faint stubble on his chin. „Heard that before?“</p><p>„More often than you probably think.“ Arms were folded loosely over his chest as Oikawa leaned back against the bench, demeanor still lighthearted. „Then again I’m just trying to save unknowing people like you, from wearing clothes that don’t necessarily compliment them.“</p><p>„Quite rich, coming from someone who most likely looks fuckin’ good in anything.“ <em>Goddamn</em>.</p><p>Hajime’s gaze shot up to meet Oikawa’s. He was looking at him, all curiosity and mild amusement once again, lips softly curled and one brow tugged aloft. The shorter man didn’t mean to say it like that, but his tongue had been faster as his mind knew how to stop it.</p><p>„Do you think I’d look good in anything?“ The brunette questioned, leaning in only the slightest. But it was enough to have Hajime become aware of Oikawa’s fucking annoying magnetism again.</p><p>He swallowed, hoped it stayed unnoticed. „Fishing for compliments?“</p><p>„Not really, no. I’m just interested in knowing your thoughts, Iwa-chan.“</p><p>„Why?“</p><p>„You’re different from what someone expects when they see you the first time.“</p><p>„Am I?“ It was on Hajime then, to lean further into Oikawa’s space without really taking note of it himself. Was that something good? Being different than Oikawa had expected him to be? He wasn’t entirely sure.</p><p>„Nuh-uh.“ The taller male shook his head, and nudged Hajime’s shoulder with his own A small pout was on his lips. „You didn’t answer my question so I won’t answer yours.“</p><p>Hajime had half a mind to indulge Oikawa and tell him in all the ways he knew that he was in fact the prettiest man he’d ever met, only to satisfy his own growing curiosity at what was going on in the other’s head. But this time rationality outweighed his ridiculously immense attraction toward the copper-haired man. His own stubbornness might’ve played a minor part, too.</p><p>„Fine.“ Hajime spat, shrugged his shoulders and faced back downward to scrutinize the shadows of dancing leaves playing on the stony ground. He might’ve sounded more petulant than he’d intended to.</p><p>„Wow, I’m sure you can be a real brute, Iwa-chan.“ Oikawa just laughed before he rose to his feet. Hajime’s eyes followed him as he took one step, tiptoed, and stretched his arms high above his head until joints lightly cracked. „Come on now.“ He shot an expectant glance back over his shoulder.</p><p>„What?“ Was all Hajime could return. He still, confused as he was, grabbed his backpack and got up, too. Yet the raven remained motionless in front of the bench.</p><p>„Well, you can’t sit there forever and neither can I.“ Oikawa explained, and Hajime wondered when he'd demanded for Oikawa to sit with him to begin with. „Might as well come home with me, and look for your will there, to go back and grab your keys.“ His tone was amused once more and all Hajime could do was stand there, uncertain about what to say or do.</p><p>Oikawa was inviting him into his home right then. Actually, he had already done so about a week ago and it was the main thing that had occupied all of Hajime’s thoughts in the days following the spoken invitation. It wasn’t making him feel any less nervous as it had done the first time.</p><p>„Also, I might not look it,“ Oikawa carded fingers through his perfectly styled hair, subtle conceit dancing around mouth’s corners. „I worked all night, too and am pretty beat. So let’s go.“</p><p>He turned around after that and took long and leisure steps toward their apartment building, back just as straight and confident as the first evening Hajime’d ever laid eyes on it. But the distance between himself and that back, or the person it belonged to, had become significantly smaller. How, Hajime wasn’t sure. Just as he was uncertain where it would lead.</p><p>It felt pretty much like swimming in the middle of a lake, oblivious of what lingered in the dark beneath you. Or like being witness to an approaching storm, much like that one now lying a week back. You’d never know where the winds take you, or how severe it might hit. It was unpredictable.</p><p>Don’t overthink it. Kuroo’s words came to his mind just then. And maybe, just <em>maybe</em>, his friend had given him the best advice Hajime could’ve hoped for.</p><p>Oikawa did not turn around again after he had taken off, almost as though he knew the raven would follow him. Hajime inhaled and exhaled, once, twice, and another time before his legs began to move- his steps on the ground pounding in the same rhythm as his heart as he jogged to catch up with the brunette.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i didn't fit all i had planned into his chap... the next one is def gonna be wayyyyy heavier on the iwaoi interaction and much more progress I PROMISE.<br/>thx to those who gave this a read and made it to the end :*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wow ok this one is huge and just so very self indulging fml. I also cant say im absolutely happy but whatevs. Its here its done. dialogues can be a fuxkign pain to write istg,,, </p><p>enjoy?????</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Following Oikawa into his home was something else entirely. It felt just <em>different. </em>Different than watching him from afar, a physical distance between them allowing for blooming sentiments to easily get carried away into the open space, like they’d never existed- so bright and burning- to begin with. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Breathing had felt different, too, easier, with the both of them not being in one confined place, where his exhales appeared to echo from the walls and where everything just smelled like <em>Oikawa- </em>a scent Hajime didn’t pay much mind to before, but now was too bold as that he could’ve ignored it. It was a subtle, sweet scent, underlined with the nuance of something earthy- masculine and the tang of nicotine. It reminded him on grass and earth soaked with summer rain- the both of them on the sidelines of a storm. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Being inside these four walls <em>was</em> different- leaving him with a nervous stomach, limbs slightly trembling along to the anxiety that buzzed under his skin- but it was exciting all the same. Hajime couldn’t seem to keep his gaze steady, as it roamed all the spots of the apartment that revealed just a tad more about the taller man. With the shower a muted background noise, he quite greedily took in whatever hints his surroundings offered, about the person that was Oikawa Tooru. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">First of all, the place was a mess. And that observation was not tinted with the bias of Hajime being a neat-freak. Actually, he’d always thought to be on the more sloppy side, concerning tidiness, but ever since stepping over the brunette’s threshold he reckoned to have to consider that belief. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His things were scattered <em>everywhere</em>. Clothes lied on the ground and the large, grey couch the raven sat on- some in a neat stack and others in a crumbled pile. Magazines littered the low table in front of it, ranging from mundane gossip rags to sports readings and thick zines of what looked to be some astrophysical stuff. It was a wide span of interests, Hajime thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t dared to move since taking a shower- faster as he’d ever taken one before- changing into the fresh shirt he’d had stored in his backpack and a pair of slightly long sweatpants Oikawa still gave to him even after his vehement refusal, and eventually sitting down and watching the other vanish behind the bathroom door. Oikawa had said to make himself at home, but there was no way Hajime could do so with how stiff he felt. It was as though he’d gone back to being sixteen, the situation feeling much like the first time he had went over to the place of a girl Hajime had taken a liking to. Then again, he didn’t think he’d felt <em>as</em> nervous even back then. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, focusing on the things around him was the best way to keep himself and his restless mind occupied. He deemed it a good thing not being shortsighted, since that meant he could still see the contents of Oikawa’s shelves clearly enough that it wasn’t necessary leaving his save spot (or just a little less uncomfortable spot). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His book and movie collection was small. Hajime recognized a few movie titles, but in regards to the handful of books he was left curious. It was solely nonfiction, business-related things and he wondered whether the answer to that question would be found on Oikawa’s desk, framing the side next to his balcony, and being just as a mess with plenty of stray papers and colorful sticky notes. Though, as much as his hands and feet twitched to move and find out, he didn’t think going through Oikawa’s stuff was a decent thing to do. Then again, maybe neither was secretly watching him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime slumped back with a heavy sigh, and it occurred to him that Oikawa was just pretty good at making him an indecent person with indecent thoughts and an even more indecent twitch in his fingers- constantly wanting to grasp at more and getting <em>closer. </em>He started thinking that, when he couldn’t seem to change that, it was a waste overanalyzing it every time. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fingers pulled slightly on the still damp mess of black hair, before it dropped to his side and landed mindlessly on a pile of clothes. What Hajime hadn’t expected was the pile to feel <em>hard, </em>and a twitch underneath, paired with an odd noise that sounded much like a <em>meow, </em>to make him pull his hand back in shock. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The heap of fabric rumbled, moved on its own and the raven watched with wide eyes, all while sliding back to the other end of the sofa, as shirts and pants parted to reveal a white, cat with thick and puffy fur, poking its head out of the mess of laundry. It appeared unbothered by Hajime, opening its mouth wide in a yawn that revealed sharp teeth, before it left its obvious roost and began strolling toward Hajime who sat frozen even after the pet just used his lap as a passage. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A low chuckle sounded from the other side of the room and his head snapped toward it and to Oikawa, who stood in the door of the bathroom, still shirtless and only clad with shorts, drying his hair with a towel. Hajime didn’t know where to look first, <em>if </em>he should look at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Seems like you met King Cotton.“ The cat walked toward Oikawa, thick tail curling around his calve as it walked past him and toward the kitchen, disappearing behind the counters separating it from the living room. But honestly, as much as it had startled Hajime at first as fast had his attention been redirected with Oikawa coming out looking like <em>that. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d seen him without a shirt before, yet most of his skin had been shielded from Hajime’s eyes by the blanket he’d had wrapped around himself. Now there was nothing keeping his gaze from flitting over the expanse of his torso, catching on distinct seams of muscle, drops of water running along the contours of protruding hipbones and the soft trail of hair starting from his navel and leading all the way down to- </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime forced his gaze away and up to Oikawa’s, who looked at him with the same mild amusement the other thought to be graced with rather frequently. Maybe this time his staring had been anything but subtle. He still hoped he had concealed it better before. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„That’s a terrible name, really.“ His mouth was dry and his voice a little rough in his throat as he eventually remembered Oikawa had addressed him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Shhhhh, Iwa-chan! You’ll offend him.“ The other hissed before bending down, vanishing halfway behind the counter and purring something like ‚<em>just don’t listen to him‘ </em>as he much likely carded long fingers through thick, white fur. That antic was enough to draw a small smile on Hajime’s lips. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You don’t appear like a cat person.“ Hajime said, his gaze steady on Oikawa as he rose back to his feet and strolled toward the couch. He purposefully didn’t allow for his eyes to wander again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I am not.“ Oikawa huffed. „Not really. He wasn’t mine in the beginning. I just watched him for someone, but he grew onto me.“ He stopped in front of the couch, lips slanted upward slightly in thought, a finger tapping against his chin. „The cat’s more like a sloth. Lying around all day, when he ain’t eating. Then again he’s old, too.“ The brunette finished with a shrug of shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Well,“ Hajime rubbed the side of his neck, once again taking in his surroundings. „One could assume you’re more of a sloth, too, concerning this mess here.“ The raven hadn’t thought before those words slipped him, and he momentarily tensed in wait for the other’s reaction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a sound from Oikawa, half laugh and half gasp as he swatted at Hajime’s arm. „That’s so rude, <em>wow, </em>Iwa-chan.“ Since Oikawa didn’t appear genuinely offended Hajime felt his form relax, even if only slightly, for that the other man was still too close for actual comfort. He didn’t know where to look, what to do with his hands or all of himself all together. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.“ Hajime snorted, amusement woven into his words, which only grew at the pouting man in front of him. „Like, how can you live like that?“ Oikawa looked younger like this, nearly innocent. Innocent and very much petulant, like he was a kid who’d gotten his favorite toy taken away from him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I never liked chores.“ Oikawa grumbled, eventually plopping down in front of the couch, back resting against it. His head was still tilted toward Hajime, though, and he figured he felt less nervous and intimidated with the other man gazing up at him, instead of the other way around.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d distantly hoped Oikawa would put on a shirt, but it seemed the other was completely unbothered to do so. At least his bare chest was not in direct view anymore. Instead, Hajime focused on the drops of water that gathered at the tips of his hair, trailing down his neck and soaking the towel he had now draped over shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Looks like it.“ Hajime deadpanned. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa hummed, „You should be nicer to your host, Iwa-chan. Who invited you into his home with nothing but good, selfless intentions.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other huffed a breath, somehow not quite believing the others intentions to be as selfless, and if only for the perpetual feeling that Oikawa found amusement in getting him flustered, and catching him off guard with looks, and <em>Iwa-chan. </em>Much like now, as he looked up at Hajime so intently, with that soft curve to his lips and mischief in chocolate eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He eluded his gaze after a moment, clearing his throat behind a fisted palm and wondered for a second why he felt hot as though Oikawa had done more than just look at him. „Sure, oh dear host.” He said, all mock formality. “Got a glass of water, maybe?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Anything for my Iwa-chan.“ The brunette cooed and got up again. This time Hajime’s eyes did not follow him, however, as he was too busy fighting down the shiver in his spine. <em>My </em>Iwa-chan. It was probably not too far fetched to assume Oikawa did that on purpose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I could offer you coffee, too, or tea.“ He called over his shoulder as stepping behind the kitchen counter. Cabinets opened and closed, glass clinked. „Water’s fine.“ Hajime replied and shortly after he heard the rush of water from the faucet and much sooner than he’d hoped Oikawa was back in his very vicinity, placing a full glass on the couch table and taking the same seat as before. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Thanks.“ Hajime said, as reaching for the glass and downing a good part of its cool content. Peering over the glass’s edge he saw Oikawa looking at him again and the raven figured the water didn’t do its job in chasing the dryness out of his mouth and throat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„What?“ Hajime asked, as soon as having put down the glass again. Distantly, he felt his cheeks going slightly warmer under the others undivided attention, but he chose to ignore it as best as he could. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Nothing.“ Oikawa just shook his head. He still smiled, even though right that moment it appeared a little too wide for the situation. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A couple seconds of silence passed by, with neither of them saying anything, until Hajime remembered one of the pressing questions that had gone amiss in his head while being overwhelmed by all these new informations. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>„What do you do anyway?“ Hajime had begun to seriously wonder about it from the moment on they had met this morning, half past five on a Saturday. Oikawa did not look the type to have a job similar to his, that was sure. The books he’d in his shelf and the scattered papers on a messy desk had only increased his curiosity. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Huh?“ The smile disappeared from the man’s features, lips forming a neutral line instead as he turned away and let intense eyes settle on a spot at the wall. He seemed to consider his answer. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Hmm, not much really.“ A noncommittal shrug of shoulders followed, „Helping out at a friend’s club from time to time, like last night.“ Oikawa marked another pause, then he sighed. „I started online classes, business major, a couple years back.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You going for a business major?“ Hajime interrupted. The book titles he’d read made sense now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa peered at him out of the corner of his eyes before flicking his wrist in dismissal. His shoulders looked a little more tense than before. „Its nothing big. I’m also not in a rush to get it, so…“ There was another shrug and Hajime felt as though it hadn’t been the best topic to breach, so he opted not to press the matter regardless of the new set of questions that gathered on his tongue. He vaguely knew about college expenses, from doing his own research in that matter, and figured the costs of online classes not to vary that much. Oikawa wore expensive clothes, went out almost every evening- from what he knew- and Hajime just could not imagine his friend to be paying him as much as that those things were easily obtainable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it wasn’t his business, was it? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„What about you, Iwa-chan?“ The question ripped him out of his thoughts and his eyes snapped up. The too-wide smile was back on Oikawa’s face, making him feel slightly uneasy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I work part-time at the convenience store.“ That time it was on Hajime to shrug. „Yeah, that’s it.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa’s eyes widened in the slightest. „That’s it? I could’ve sworn you were one of those ambitious college students.“ His voice did sound a little more lighthearted, and even though that was a small relief it did not help the discomfort that made his skin crawl and had him squirm in his place. Of course it had been a stupid topic, he thought. It would’ve been highly presumable that Oikawa was going to throw the question back at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Well, I am not.“ Hajime just replied. „Maybe I’ll go, one day, but I don’t know yet.“ He gritted his teeth, hastily grasping for his glass and downing its remaining content in an attempt to swallow down <em>this feeling. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t help but think about being back home, two pairs of expectant eyes directed at him and the sourness that gathered in his guts at the prospect of disappointing them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A weight on his leg rearranged his focus, and as he looked down it was Oikawa’s hand, squeezing lightly and granting him with a more genuine tilt of lips again. Hajime felt himself breathing a little easier as his attention shifted away from his churning insides to the warm press of skin- a warmth so distinct that it reached through the fabric of his shorts. He determined getting lost in exactly that <em>warmth </em>and the depths of those deep brown eyes was a better alternative. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Hey, you still got time, anyway. To decide, I mean.“ Hajime began missing Oikawa’s hand on him the very moment the man pulled it back to prop his head upon it. „How old are you?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Twenty-three.“ Hajime answered, voice a little lower then, forest green eyes still transfixed on a slender palm. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„See? Practically a baby.“ Oikawa grinned, „Don’t make yourself age even faster with worrying too much.“ He pointedly shoved a finger toward the lines on the raven’s forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„A baby?“ Hajime scoffed, „So, you’re an old man, then?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One of Oikawa’s perfectly shaped brows rose in surprise, slyness slowly carving itself into the lines at the corners of his eyes and lips and Hajime sensed the blood freeze in his veins. „I don’t know, am I?“ Faux innocence lied heavy in his voice. „You’ve yet to ask how old I am, Iwa-chan, don’t you?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime wanted to slap himself. Oikawa was oblivious concerning how much the other actual knew about him already and- just why did he have to do such a piss poor job at hiding the fact that he had asked around about the brunette before? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Uh, yeah.“ Hajime tried to mask his nervosity with a laugh, but it sounded more like he was about to choke on his spit. „Since you called me a baby I just assumed-“ The sentence was left hanging and Oikawa’s grin spread further. Fuck it, really. „How old are you, then?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Twenty-eight, and I don’t think that’s making me an old man yet.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„No, I mean-“ He was fumbling for words. “I don’t think you’re old either.“ Hajime mumbled eventually and slumped back with a sigh, head lolling against the sofa. He wasn’t used to feeling so on edge around anyone he knew and right then, so early in the morning and after eight hours of work, he thought it exhausting for the first time. Peering down Oikawa was still smirking, even though it was more muted than it had been a second ago. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’m convinced you’re the mean one.“ Hajime said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Your reactions are just fun.“ Oikawa simply returned and the raven huffed a half-hearted laugh and closed his eyes to the ceiling. He wanted to question him again, wanted to get mad at being a source of amusement to the other but couldn’t find the will in him to do so. Maybe that was good. Maybe it would have Oikawa want to keep him around. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>You’re pathetic, Iwaizumi Hajime. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Hey.“ There was a soft tap at his leg that had Hajime peel his eyes back open. Oikawa was draped over the couch, cheek resting against his forearm, lines of his face calm and soft. „Do you want breakfast or anything?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„No, I’m good.“ Hajime shook his head and faced the ceiling again, all too aware that Oikawa’s finger kept drawing mindless patterns into the fabric of his pants. „In a couple hours, maybe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Mhm.“ And it was left at that. Silence befell them and the only sound within the apartment was their steady breaths, the chirping of birds, and the soft rustling of trees that filtered through the open windows. Oikawa had the curtains partly shut, which dipped the place in muted, deeper colors and allowed only the one or other ray of sunshine to seep through and dance in bright lines atop wooden furniture. It was calming. Possible was, too, Hajime had gone too long without proper sleep for his nervousness to win against his fatigue. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He still tried to fight it, lest he’d fall fall asleep at Oikawa’s place and overstay his welcome. Hajime was sure once he’d be out it would take hours for him to wake up again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa seemed to be able to look into his head. „I don’t mind if you doze off, you know. You worked all night.“ His finger had stopped moving against his thigh, but he didn’t remove his hand completely. „I’m sure you’re tired, so-“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fuck, yes, he was tired. As tired that he couldn’t even be bothered to open his eyes and check on the expression that was lingering on Oikawa’s face. Hajime was tired, but he also enjoyed being <em>awake</em> at that very moment. Being at the other man’s place, getting to listen to his voice and see his things and figure out so much <em>more </em>than he’d ever hoped to find out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„No, no.“ He roughly rubbed over his eyes with his hand and forced heavy lids to open partially before heaving himself upright. „I’ll sleep later. Still gotta wait for my coworker to get on break and call because of my keys.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Just crank the volume of your phone up, Iwa-chan.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I really don’t have to sleep right now.“<br/><br/>Oikawa <em>tsk’ed </em>at that. „So, you’re rude <em>and </em>stubborn, but fine. Don’t sleep.“ He huffed and folded both arms under his head, slightly pouting again just as he’d done before. His hair had partly dried by then and curled a little at its ends. Hajime wondered what it would feel like between his fingers. Surely, it’d be softer than his own. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„For how long are you in Tokyo now?“ Oikawa’s voice was quiet, eyes focused at something lying outside the far off window, but Hajime didn’t doubt he was listening as the raven started talking. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was how they spent the next half an hour or so. With Hajime telling Oikawa about his first day in Tokyo, which only lied a couple months back. How overwhelmed he’d been and that he’d had taken the wrong train twice before getting to the apartment, and that he’d promptly gotten lost again on his first stroll through the city the day after. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It elicited small, soft chuckles from Oikawa and even though Hajime had never been the one to fill vacancy with his voice, wasn’t inclined to talk more than most he knew, he could’ve gotten used to having his stories be the center of the other’s genuine laughter and just plainly, his attention. It felt like some sort of achievement, and why that was, Hajime wasn’t quite sure, but it did not lessen the joy he sensed swelling in his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Some time later Oikawa just took it upon himself to make them coffee, without asking Hajime whether he actually wanted one because <em>Iwa-chan would just refuse anyway, </em>but concerning Oikawa he at least wanted to provide him with caffeine if Hajime was too stubborn to rest properly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wanted to call Oikawa out on obviously being just as stubborn, instead Hajime just grunted assent and focused on the Tv- which the other man had turned on while on his way into the kitchen. Some Documentary was playing, showing pictures of deep seas and wide meadows accompanied by a soothing commentary, one of the likes that had lulled Hajime into sleep countless of times. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Distantly the raven wondered whether Oikawa had done that on purpose, although the thought was futile and Hajime could not will himself to chase after it as his limbs grew heavier against the couch cushions. The noise of nature, quietly coming from the tv, together with clinking cups and the rumbling of the coffeemaker was quite narcotic, and the last thing to cross his mind, before he drifted off, was that Oikawa sure took long making two damn cups of coffee.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p>-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime didn’t know how long he had slept by the time the fog lifted off of his mind and he blinked his eyes open. Light still flooded in from the cracks between teal-colored curtains, much to his relief, because that meant not that much time could’ve passed. Though it appeared to have been enough time spent in the same position to make his neck ache with stiffness. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He groaned, rolled his head to the right and twitched at the strain in his muscles. Then he turned left and twitched again, but this time the pull he felt was located behind his sternum, kicking his heartbeat into a quicker rhythm immediately as eyes fell upon the sleeping face of Oikawa. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man’s tall figure was sprawled out on the other side of the couch, knees bent and toes nearly touching hajime’s thigh. His chest was still bare and rose steadily with his deep, calm inhales. And this was pretty bad, Hajime thought. Actually, it was a disaster because Oikawa lied there <em>sleeping, </em>mouth slightly parted, cheeks dusted a soft pink and long, black lashes drawing such a strong contrast to his nearly white skin. He looked peaceful, and Hajime could not stop staring. He should’ve but he couldn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was the first time the raven was able to unabashedly gaze at him without the fear of being caught by an intense set of deep brown eyes. And again he shouldn’t have been taking advantage of that, but he also could not turn away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There were probably a lot of things Hajme <em>should</em> have done. Like waking Oikawa and most importantly <em>waking the fuck up </em>himself because just what was wrong with him? But also, what the hell was wrong with Oikawa, mindlessly falling asleep next to someone that was basically a stranger? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But before Hajime could continue to doubt the other’s common sense Oikawa stirred in his sleep, mumbled something that Hajime was unable to decipher, and extended one of his impossibly long legs that it settled across the raven’s lap. It was a feeling similar to having the same leg land a pointed kick into his ribs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime’s hand hovered above Oikawa’s skin, felt hair tickling the inside of his palm while he kept chancing swift glances at the male’s still placid mien. He felt himself breathing heavier. It seemed like if he’d close this gap of mere millimeters that existed between skin and skin, it was equivalent to crossing a line. It was <em>definitely</em> crossing a line. But maybe there had never existed one between them to begin with. It surely didn’t appear like Oikawa had drawn one himself. So, didn’t that mean he <em>could-</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before he could finish the thought the ringing of his phone jolted him out of it. He literally jolted, too, and if Oikawa wouldn’t have woken due to the sound, it was Hajime who quite violently shoved his leg off of him and jumped from the couch to answer the call. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Hello?“ Hajime rasped and immediately cleared his throat. His mouth was still dry from sleep. He hadn’t even checked who called him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>„Uh, Iwaizumi-san?“</em> Came Kindichi’s hesitant voice and Hajime cursed under his breath, having totally forgotten about his keys and why he even was at Oikawa’s apartment. He looked over to him. Oikawa had gotten up, too, hair now slightly rumbled and features still drawn with sleepiness as he patted with bare feet over to were Hajime stood, in the entryway of the kitchen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Fuck, yes, yes.“ Hajime hurried to avert his gaze and focus on the guy who was on the other end of the line. However, he was still hyperaware of Oikawa stifling a yawn as he passed Hajime, impossible close that their arms brushed together. A couple seconds later, the coffeemaker rumbled again. „I’m sorry, I-“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But what was he about to say anyway? <em>Sorry, </em>I got carried away by my fucking handsome neighbor? <em>Sorry, </em>I took a nap at my neighbors apartment, with whom I first talked about a week ago? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime sighed. „I should’ve come get it. Sorry, I got distracted.“ He figured that was describing the situation best anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>„Don’t worry about it. I was the one offering to bring them over.“ </em>Kindaichi breathed a laugh. <em> „I’m on my break now. Just wanted to ask where to meet you.“ </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You didn’t have to-“ Hajime stoped mid-sentence, figuring it was no use reminding his coworker now that he didn’t have to do that, that he was being way too kind. „You’ll have to let me treat you to ramen for that one.“ He decided to say instead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„<em>Deal. So, where you at?“ </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You know the park next to the station?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>„Yup.“ </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’m living in one of the apartments right behind it. I’ll met you halfway, at the larger pond.“<br/>He’d surely not make Kindaichi walk all the way to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„<em>Got you. Then, I’ll see you there, Iwaizumi-san.“ </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Yeah, see you there.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With that he hung up and shoved his phone back into his short’s pocket. Hajime still felt Oikawa behind him. He also still felt the ghost of a twitch in his palm as it was about to reach out and touch him only minutes ago. A memory that came with the subtle aftertaste of guilt, and rendered him clueless as to what to say to break the silence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t have to be the one to break it in the first place, it turned out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Slept well?“ Oikawa chimed, causing for Hajime to turn at him and find him leaning against his kitchen counter, with a white mug in hand that said in black letters ‚<em>early bird my ass‘. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The raven nodded, then ran fingers through his hair, taming the spikes slightly. Honestly, he rather wanted to pull on them, viciously even, and maybe that would put some sense into him, make him find the composure he’d lost somewhen that night a week back, or on the first evening he’d stumbled into the park. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I did.“ There was something pleased about the way Oikawa smiled, but Hajime didn’t ponder on it. He didn’t have the time to right then, no matter how much he might’ve wanted to stay for a little longer. „I’ll meet my coworker now, though. Getting my keys back.“ He said all while walking into the living room and grabbing his backpack. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He thought Oikawa might seem him to the door, but the other made no move to even follow him out of the kitchen. Instead Oikawa just propped both elbows onto the counter, fitting his chin into one palm. „Okay. I’m surprised you were still here anyway. There was a fifty-fifty chance I’d wake up and find my wallet gone.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">„I’m sure not even a burglar would find your wallet in this mess.“ </span><br/><br/>At that Oikawa just grinned, and odd enough Hajime returned it.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Well, I’m off then.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closed the door behind him without turning at Oikawa again. The sun was bright and temperatures had picked up a good measure, making Hajime crave another shower, but more noticeable was how his feet were dragging just a tag heavier over the cement floor. How there was a weird pull in his legs that seemed to want to lead him back into the opposite direction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Back in broad daylight, a kind of absurdity clung to the past hours. There was still a lot of gaps Hajime wanted to fill. More importantly, he didn’t know when he’d get the chance to do that. It had began as fast as it had ended, after all. They didn’t talk about seeing each other again, save from the typical random encounters that appeared to become more frequent lately. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime was already on his way down the stairs when- </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Iwa-chan!“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His head whipped around. Up above him, Oikawa stood at the stairhead, and all Hajime could think was <em>just when would this idiot decide to put on a fucking shirt. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„What?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„How many people in Tokyo do you know already?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime’s brows narrowed in confusion. Oikawa continued without needing to be prompted to do so, a laugh on his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Nevermind that.“ He shook his head. „I’m going out for dinner with some friends.“ And Hajime could not follow just what Oikawa was suggesting until the latter uttered it loud and clearly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You should join us.“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p>-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was exactly how Hajime had ended up walking the streets of Tokyo on a Saturday evening, with Oikawa Tooru of all people, on his way toward some restaurant which name had slipped him the very moment the other had mentioned it. To be fair, Hajime was pretty certain he’d forget anything in the face of Oikawa looking like <em>this. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Laying eyes on him again later that day, after he’d successfully retrieved his keys from Kindaichi, Hajime might’ve regretted his decision to tag along in the slightest. After all, there was only a certain amount of staring you could justify, or conceal. But Oikawa was making that a terribly hard feat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wore black. Black jeans hugged his legs impossibly tight- not to mention certain other parts- and made Hajime wonder just how he’d put them on to begin with. The matching black shirt was just as a snug fit, ends tugged into his pants, both held in place by a shiny belt that had probably cost more than Hajime’s entire outfit. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The shirt’s sleeves stretched around his biceps, something the raven’s eyes kept returning to even unconsciously. All the black fabric he was clad in just strained with every move and- he was doomed, so to say. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„We’re here.“ Oikawa announced as they stopped in front of huge, dark tinted glass windows, and Hajime wondered whether they were about to go to an actual restaurant or a club. The neon sign above it read <em>onyx. </em>It was possible Oikawa had chosen his dark attire on purpose and Hajime suddenly felt a wave of insecurity hit him as he gazed down at his white shirt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt a soft nudge to his shoulder. „Come on.“ Then Oikawa yanked one of the glass doors open and entered with Hajime on his tail. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The place indeed turned out to be a restaurant, even though there was a large, crowded bar in its center and some upbeat music blasting from speakers- louder than you’d find in a typical place people visited solely to eat or have easy conversation. It was obvious that the mass who came here were more interested in the wide collection of alcohol that was displayed in big shelves behind the busy counter. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa steered confidently through the people in their way, leading Hajime to an assemble of tables in the far corner of the restaurant and then stopping in front of one that was already occupied by two people. One of them Hajime immediately recognized. It was the same tall, black-haired man he’d seen at Oikawa’s place the week before- the one he’d called Mattsun. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Next to him sat a slightly shorter guy, strawberry blonde hair- more on the strawberry side however, eyes slitted and with a mischievous gleam to it as he set them on Oikawa. „Oh, there he is,“ His arms opened wide, and his grin grew. „The fool of the nation. Took you long enough.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The pinkish-haired guy didn’t seem to have noticed Hajime yet, other than Mattsun, who’s intense eyes promptly caught on Hajime. His features looked as unimpressed as the first time he’d seen them, though he could’ve sworn one of the male’s brows twitched. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Next to Hajime, Oikawa huffed a laugh. Turning toward him there was the same spark in his eyes as he’d spotted in those of the stranger. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Iwa-chan, may I introduce to you,“ Oikawa swept a palm at the pair in front of them, „Dumb and Dumber or, the worst friends to ever exist.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That brought the other’s attention to Hajime, making him shift with slight discomfort as curious eyes scanned over him. „Didn’t know you’d bring someone along.“ He rose out of his seat and extended his hand toward Hajime. The smile that curved thin lips was genuine, and he felt himself relax slightly as he returned it and took the others palm into his. „Hanamaki Takahiro.“ He introduced himself, „Or just Makki, whatever you want.“ After that he jerked his thumb at the man occupying the chair next to his. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Matsukawa Issei. Also known as Mattsun.“ The man nodded in lieu of a greeting and Hajime returned it. „And I see you’ve had the pleasure already, with Oikawa’s incredibly annoying habit to give stupid nicknames.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that Hajime laughed, „Positive.“ Oikawa sat down, and so Hajime did the same. „Actually it’s Iwaizumi.“ He said then. „Iwaizumi Hajime.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Well, then, Iwaizumi Hajime, just which crimes did you commit in a former life to deserve being caught up with this idiot now?“ Hanamaki nodded at Oikawa, who was already sipping on a pinkish-colored cocktail, which the others must’ve ordered for him. Hearing his friend’s words, he glowered at him from underneath his lashes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was amusing, to witness Oikawa on the receiving end of someone’s teasing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’m his neighbor.“ Hajime replied. A waitress passed him and he stopped her, ordering a beer for himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„He just moved here.“ The raven heard Oikawa continue after he obviously had freed his lips from the green straw. Looking at him he now used it to swirl around in his drink. „And I decided, selfless as I am, to show him around a bit.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„You and selfless, huh?“ Matsukawa piped in, thick brows aloft in what was clear mockery. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa pointed his straw at him. „Careful, Mattsun. You’re still slightly above Makki in the friends ranking list.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other rose both palms in an obvious, faux placating gesture. „Damn, what a threat.“ He deadpanned, the smallest curl to his lips, before he focused back on the clear liquor in his glass. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa deflated slightly in his seat, leaning just a little closer toward Hajime. „At least Iwa-chan thinks I’m a delight to be around, don’t you?“ He pouted and Hajime’s eyes darted down swiftly to look at the swell of his lips before he hastily dragged his gaze elsewhere. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I don’t know you as long as they do.“ He replied. „I’m sure they must’ve a point.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa laughed while Oikawa’s pout only grew more petulant. He folded his arms atop the table and threw accusing gazes across it. „I’ll replace the both of you.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„With whom?“ Hanamaki countered, all cruel, toothy grin and mirth in his eyes. He turned at Hajime. „Don’t let this spam email of a human being fool you.“ Hajime was glad there was no liquor in his mouth already that he could’ve choked on. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„There are only two kinds of people.“ He held two fingers up for good measure. „Those who want to fuck him and those who tolerate his existence.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Makki!“ Oikawa whined and swatted at the other with the bar’s menu while Makki cackled away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matsukawa, who said across from Hajime was just watching him, freshly lit cigarette between his lips and although the shorter raven laughed he also felt heat crawl up his neck and spread all the way up to his cheeks. He quickly chased the thought away, to what category he belonged, yet he could not quite ignore the intensity of a set of dark eyes on him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was glad that his attention was rearranged, though, the very moment Oikawa snatched the cigarette right from his lips and plugged it between his own, causing for Matusukawa’s eyes to change its target.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime still wondered whether Matsukawa had been looking for something in Hajime’s expression. He hoped the other came out empty. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Some time later, and after more bickering Hajime was on his second beer and they had finally decided on ordering food along to their drinks. Which he was grateful for, really, after not having bothered to eat anything before meeting up with Oikawa again. He wasn’t necessarily a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but Hajime would also not call himself a good drinker. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their conversation was less vibrant, too, with all four of them shoveling sushi into themselves. It was more muted and Hajime came to know a few things over the two people. Matsukawa worked at the funeral home of his parents which Hajime thought suited him, as odd as that thought was. Hanamaki on the other hand was jumping between jobs, more on the ‚<em>wanna enjoy my life a little longer before leading a dreary adult life‘ -</em>side. He was currently working part time at a tattoo shop, and while that included mostly cleaning tasks and scheduling of appointments, he sometimes got to design tattoo’s, too. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were friends with Oikawa since high school, same class, and also joined the school’s volleyball team together right in their first year. Hajime mentioned at that, that he, too, had played volleyball in school and while Oikawa, who had been surprisingly quiet during the conversation, looked at him with curiosity it was Hanamaki that got all excited and invited him to play with them some time. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime quickly grew comfortable around these people. He had feared to feel left out, awkward midst a group that already shared all kinds of experiences and the more relieved he felt when that wasn’t the case at all. Quite the opposite, really. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was easy striking up a conversation with Hanamaki. He was openminded, had a quick wit and sharp tongue. Matsukawa was quieter, but still as sharp and Hajime could see why those two especially, got along so well. They obviously made it a habit to team up against Oikawa, who in return, went into a state of dramatic animosity toward the pair and their ,as he called it ‚<em>betrayal‘</em>, but Hajime could see that none of it was genuine. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matsukawa stopped his staring at one point too, as more alcohol had flown, actually he rather stopped staring at <em>Hajime. </em>But the latter noticed, much to his confusion that his attention merely shifted toward Hanamaki. They both had grown quieter with the time passing, and instead of words it were gazes and fleeting, barely noticeable touches that they exchanged. The gap between them appeared to disappear further too, witch each minute passing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime looked at Oikawa with creased brows. The brunette chuckled and leaned in, much too close, nearly pressing his lips against Hajime’s ears as he whispered, „That always happens when they drink.“ Hot breath brushed his skin and Hajime felt a shiver run down his spine. He was glad, that he could blame the color on his cheeks on the alcohol. „They pretend to be plain friends, but when alcohol is in the mix they practically jump each other. Amusing, huh?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His gaze shifted back toward the pair in front of them. Matsukawa was whispering something to Hanamaki, his fingers trailing along the man’s jaw before his thumb caught onto the strawberry-blonde’s lower lip. Their faces inched together even further, both their gazes half lidded and Hajime forced his eyes away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was then that he noticed Oikawa hadn’t bothered to put distance between them again. Hajime could still feel his breath faintly trail over the skin of his neck, he felt his body’s heat where his cheek rested against Hajime’s shoulder, the electricity between their legs that nearly, but not quite, touched underneath the table. And there was his scent, musk and fruity like Hajime had learned to recognize it. It made his blood pressure spike. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Do you wanna go home?“ He felt the words more than he heard them and instead of saying yes Hajime just nodded, jaw set tightly. Oikawa just huffed a laugh and straightened. With the distance put between them he felt his hands, that he’d unconsciously balled to fists on his knees, unclench. He relaxed a little and breathed easier. He still wanted that weight back on him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Oy, you two.“ Oikawa rose his voice and partly lifted off of his chair to plant his palm right between Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s face. „That’s enough, go get a room already.“ He huffed and got up, then grabbed his glass and downed its colorful content in one swig. „I’ll go to the toilet real quick. Then Iwa-chan and I will get out of here before we become witnesses to you two exchanging any other fluids than just spit.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two others just shrugged, looking totally unbothered but mirroring OIkawa in finishing off their drinks. The brunette looked down at Hajime and laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing just faintly, before it brushed past his shoulder blades as he walked around him and into the masses of people, presumably making his way toward the toilet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’ll join him.“ Hajime heard Mattsun say and soon he watched his back, too, squeezing through people as he followed Oikawa. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’d say sorry for the PDA, but I’m not really sorry.“ Hanamaki said as soon as they were alone. There was a sly smile on his lips and Hajime found himself sighing, and somehow returning it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I only met you tonight, and I still wouldn’t expect you to apologize, either.“ He returned, amusement thick in his voice and he thought they’d fall into another easy banter, but then Hanamki’s smile slipped slightly out of place. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hummed, „Seems like you’re good at looking through people.“ His arms came to rest on the table as he leaned forward, suddenly looking at Hajime in a way that left the other shifting in his seat. „So am I, actually, and Iwaizumi, you might not be as subtle with your looks as you think.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„What?“ Hajime stiffened. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„The way you look at Oikawa, I mean.“ Hanamaki sighed and the raven balked. He had not believed to be so easy to see through. Then again, might’ve also just been what he so desperatelywanted to believe. The smile on his lips turned sour, along with the taste in his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hanamaki backpedaled at the expression on Hajime’s face. „Look, I’m not going all protective best friend on you, and tell you to back up from him, it’s just-“ He groaned, „Look, you seem to be a decent guy and I love Oikawa, but he’s complicated.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime’s eyebrows narrowed in confusion, and there was another sigh following from Hanamaki. „Fuck I’m tipsy, okay, just how do I-“ He cut himself off again, licked his lips and seemed to think for a couple seconds. „All I’m saying is be careful.“ He eventually said, and Hajime opened his mouth, wanting to question him on what exactly he meant, but was interrupted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What were you talking about?” His gaze flew up to see Oikawa and Matsukawa who had returned to their table. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„We just wondered how long it takes you two to take a piss.“ Makki replied casually, then he stood and after a glance at Oikawa, and noting the somehow familiar, too wide smile on his lips and the subtle stiffness in shoulders, Hajime downed the last bit of his beer and got up as well.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hanamaki’s words lingered with him all the way through the restaurant and they didn’t disappear either when they parted ways outside, with Matsukawa and Hanamaki taking their leave into a different direction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa and him walked in silence at first, and Hajime kept looking at him out of the corner of his eyes but the other’s gaze was set straight ahead of them. He couldn’t help but feel as though something was off, with how quiet the brunette suddenly had become, his jaw set and a barely noticeable crease between his brows. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I had fun tonight.“ Hajime said, voice low and careful. „Thanks for taking me.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa appeared to be surprised by that. His eyes landed on Hajime for the first time since they had stepped out onto the streets. „No need to thank me, Iwa-chan.“ His eyes squeezed shut with the broadness of his smile. Hajime wanted to wipe that expression off his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„They’re good friends. I like them.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That earned him a huff. „They’re just nosey idiots.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Still your friends. So what does that say about you?“ He opted for a joke to ease the tension between them. However, Oikawa stopped in his tracks immediately at that and Hajime faltered, too, looking at the other with expectancy as both of them stood in the middle of the pavement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Out of the three of us?“ Oikawa mused, features serious. „I think I’m the worst.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In that moment, just as it had struck him on many other occasions, Hajime desperately wanted to be granted a look inside the other’s head. Anything, that would ease this uncertainty and the insecurity coming along with it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I mean, yeah.“ He nodded, giving Oikawa a small smile. „You probably are. So what?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it was then that Oikawa’s features relaxed and he started laughing, low and melodic with just a little flash of white teeth, but most importantly <em>real. </em>There was a fresh new spark in his eyes, skin crinkling at their corners as they locked gazes. Hajime determined right then and there that he wanted to see more of that on Oikawa’s face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„So,“ The other began. „Iwaizumi <em>Hajime</em>, huh?“ The raven felt a shiver draw down his spine. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s my name, yeah.” Hajime returned, in lack of anything smarter to say. And if he hadn’t been so attentively marveling at the others features, nearly hypnotized by the streetlights dipping his skin into various shades of warm yellow and orange, Hajime would’ve missed the subtle shift in Oikawa’s expression- manifesting in the tilt of his mouth and the gleam in his gaze. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The brunette chuckled again, but it sounded huskier and if Hajime wouldn’t have known better- because he did, right?- and were to describe the look Oikawa gave him, he would’ve named it that of a predator. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then Oikawa started toward him, leisurely setting one foot in front of the other until he stopped again when their shoes nearly touched and suddenly Hajime doubted if he knew better, because he most certainly felt like prey at that moment, with Oikawa towering slightly over him and his scent invading the other’s every pore. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I’m curious.“ Oikawa said. So close and yet Hajime nearly missed the words that followed, with the pounding of his heart drumming in his head, eyes boring into the man’s chest. „Is all you do look? Or are you going to act, too?“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hajime choked on his spit. He couldn’t have possible heard right, could he? The other possibility was Oikawa just teasing him, mocking the perpetual staring he must’ve noticed. But when his gaze slowly crept up and met the other’s he couldn’t find an ounce of amusement lingering in impossibly deep, brown eyes. Hajime also noticed they somehow appeared darker than usual, and whether that was because of the lack of light around them, he wasn’t quite certain. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He inhaled slow and deep, trying to calm his fluttering heart, but it was futile with Oikawa’s scent clinging to every atom of air around him. „I don’t know what you-“ It was a natural instinct to deny whatever accusation was hidden in the other’s question, albeit he didn’t get that far. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oikawa’s palm abruptly rose between them and settled against Hajime’s chest, fingers applying slight pressure and he wanted to pull back, because he was certain the other would feel the rapid beating of his heart. He wanted to pull back because he felt his common sense slip with each breath of hot air brushing his cheek. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t pull away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„I don’t mind people looking.“ Oikawa continued, a subtle tilt to his head. His eyes were no longer connected with Hajime’s. Instead they were roaming, traveling over his chest and further up again, his neck, jaw, and lips. „I wouldn’t mind <em>you </em>doing more, than just that.“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he talked, Oikawa’s fingers followed the route of his eyes. They slid up Hajime’s chest, faintly brushed past his neck and the slight stubble on his jaw, then came to a stop, hovering over the male’s mouth. And if Hajime had thought he was burning already, the rise of heat in his veins was nothing compared to what ignited inside of him the very moment Oikawa’s gaze rose again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wanted to ask <em>why </em>and <em>how,</em> wanted to doubt the man’s rationality because he had fucking seen the type of men Oikawa had usually gathered around him. They were a whole other level- <em>Oikawa</em> was a whole other fucking level. So, <em>why the fuck?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">„Iwa-chan.“ Oikawa breathed, most likely recognizing the storm currently taking place in Hajime’s head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it worked like a stupid, magic spell on him, sweeping his mind blank and only leaving this buzzing want in his veins and the hammering against his ribs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They shared one last look, inhaled and exhaled in sync and then Hajime reached out and pulled the other down the same moment he pushed forward, having their lips crush together nearly painfully. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The kiss was anything but gentle. It was clashing teeth, gasping for air and hurried tongues aiming to absorb as much of the other’s taste as possible. They ended up against the wall of the building next to them, bodies pressed close. Everything ceased to existed but this heat between them- heat and pressure both of them appeared to desperately chase after. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Just be careful. </em>Hanamaki’s words echoed within him for a second and Hajime thought that he was way too far gone to do that. He also thought he might’ve been so from the first day Oikawa had called out to him like that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>also ya'll bet Iwa's swooning is mostly me just being such a damn oikawa simp and not being able to keep it out of this fic.<br/>next time: a lot of fluff and also ,,, the reason why this E rated:)))</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Maybe I project my own pining for Oikawa a little too much onto Iwa-chan??? idk??</p></blockquote></div></div>
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